Sorrow
by GrumpyBear109
Summary: WARNING: Contains spoilers from the volume 3 finale. Jaune awakes in Tai Yangs house and reacts to Pyrrha's death. If you enjoyed this story please feel free to leave a comment or share it, I welcome and respect any and all feedback, the more the merrier! All credit for the absolutely amazing cover photo goes to Rks-Kogiro over at Roosterteeth.


**Sorrow**

 _Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter BOOM!_

The room was filled with a low, sleepy light, suggesting a tranquil, almost peaceful atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the events that had taken place only a few hours ago. A vast expanse of heavy, dark clouds hung in the night sky, blocking all but the shattered moon from sight.

Jaune lay asleep in bed, his body covered in blankets and darkness, as the storm passed by overhead. As far as storms went this one was quiet, the rain beat out a steady rhythm against the windows and the roof, and the thunder rumbled gently whenever the sound of droplets on glass became to loud or sharp, as though reminding it to move on and leave the wounded boy to his rest.

Peaceful moments passed, filled only with the sound of Jaune's deep breathing and the storm's quiet rhythm, and for a moment it almost seemed possible that the scene could be a happy one. But then Jaune woke up.

"Mpph." He groaned quietly, keeping his eyes shut as he dragged his mind out of sleep's gentle embrace.

He frowned as he began to remember the details of the night before. He recalled sights and sounds; Grimm snarling and people screaming, running for their lives. He remembered chaos and pain, though he couldn't remember what it was from.

"Pyrrha!"

His eyes flew open as something deep within his chest throbbed, drawing a startled gasp from him.

"Ugh." He groaned, slowly sitting up and pushing the covers back.

He had so many questions, where was he, what had happened and how did he end up here? Where was everyone else? Where was Nora, where was Ren? Where was Pyrrha?

He pushed the covers back further and found that his chest was wrapped tightly in a mess of bandages. White tape criss crossed his chest, covering an injury that flared with pain as Jaune prodded it.

"I was burned..."

Jaune recalled what had happened down in the vaults in a sudden rush of clarity so sharp that it made his head spin. A woman had appeared, and she had put an arrow through that bronze skinned girl. And the girl had died.

He could remember it so clearly, the look on her face, the way she struggled for air, gasping in desperation for the life that was slowly leaving her. She had looked so confused too, as though she couldn't work out why such a thing was happening to her and why-

Jaune squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the image out of his head and trying to remember what had happened next.

 _Pitter-patter BOOM pitter-patter, pitter-patter_

He pushed the covers all the way off and swung his legs out, groaning as it stretched the burnt skin of his chest. He looked around the room, straining his eyes against the darkness.

Lying in the corner in a charred heap was his battle armour; a blackened breastplate and a useless shield, it's pure face marred by an ugly scar and a gaping hole.

Closer to his bed sat a dresser, it's simple lines obscured by darkness, and on that dresser lay a simple crown. A golden headdress of innocent design, it's edges softly curved and it's face free of details.

Pyrrha.

And in that instant, at the simple sight of that simple crown, Jaune remembered everything. The fight, the flight, the terror and the joy he had felt at that simple kiss. At that last kiss.

He heaved himself from his bed, his mind still running through what had happened, still remembering the terrible details and torturing him all the more for making him wait to understand what he already knew.

He lifted the crown from its place on the dresser and held it gently, turning it over in his hands as the memories assaulted him and the emotions tore his heart to pieces.

"Pyrrha." He choked, his eyes brimming with tears that refused to fall.

He walked to the window, his steps heavy and slow, like he was walking through water. He felt as though he were in a dream and that sometime soon he would wake up and it would all be alright. That she would be sitting right next to him. But he knew it was real.

Jaune watched the rain fall, watched as it cut lines through his reflection until there was nothing left but an unrecognisable smear. His body shook and trembled, he was angry and sad, horrified and destroyed. And he couldn't express any of it, there was just too much.

In the end the pain and the grief won, and the tears fell and the sobs wracked his body as he held her tiara and cried. Cried for the piece of him that was gone forever, for all the things he never got to say and for all the things he had said.

He cried for everything that he had done, for the things he had taken and the little he had given back. And when there was nothing left to cry about, when his tears still fell but had no source other then her loss, the anger came.

He fell to his knees and screamed agony, he screamed till his throat was dry and ragged, he screamed till there was nothing left inside, until he was gasping for air and once he had it he screamed again.

He gave terrible voice to his anger and his hate, using it to beat back the grief and pain that he felt, and above all else the guilt.

It was HIS fault she was gone! HE should have stopped her from going! HE should have seen that glass wielding woman appear. It was HIS FAULT THAT PYRRHA WAS DEAD!

He howled into the night, hurling his loss and his agony out in great, ragged screams. He clawed at his hair, his face, his chest as his heart broke and fell away, drowned in sorrow and despair as the one person, the only person who truly mattered disappeared from his life forever.

Eventually the anger fell away, and Jaune was left exhausted, with nothing but his sorrow to keep him company. He wanted to shout again, he wanted to feel something inside but he knew now that no matter what he did, what he said, she was gone. And she was never coming back.

The realisation struck him hard and he stopped. He stopped crying, he stopped shaking, he stopped thinking. He just sat there and listened to the storm pass by, to the sound of the rain on the roof and the windows. And he felt numb.

 _Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter BOOM!_


End file.
